Shadow Slave Manwha Novels & Stories

Across his sweat-drenched, dark-brown face flashed a deep, sorrowful, and chilling light of reason—one unbelievable for a mere slave. "...Into the precious, noble wombs of My Ladies." The answer flowing through the gap in the man's thick lips was calmer than the sound of waves, and as heavy as a lump of iron. "The filthy seed of a wretched slave without roots like myself must never be sown." He continued with a firm tone. "No matter how we mix flesh like beasts on this uninhabited island, hidden from the eyes of the world, My Ladies are of the most august Yangban bloodline on the Twin Islands."

Not until I saw a man approaching me. The man appeared disheveled and unkempt, with tattered clothing that showed signs of wear and tear. His face bore traces of dirt and grime, making me realize that I was no different from him because he was a slave too. But despite his work appearance, his eyes held a glimmer of resilience, reflecting the strength within him. His posture seemed weary, hinting at the possible hardship he must have endured in the slave establishment. "Miss, are you working here as a slave?" He asked, his voice gentle yet firm.

Now it's clear to me why the lady has come and what her purpose is. "Is that a fact, ma'am? Do you think I'm a whore?" I turn around, she won't escape from me now. "But if you know that, it's because of you... Oh, excuse me for your age, it's just that you're a little bit old." "Don't offend me, you cheap whore," she tries to slap me, but my hands are agile like a hawk, I stop her. "You're a shoe woman, surely one of your men gave you this house or even my foolish son gave it to you."

Not today though. She bared her teeth, chest rumbling, and knowing what was coming, I braced myself as she slammed me into the wall behind me, the back of my head hitting it so hard I thought my cranium would crack. Lycans healed fast, but that by no means meant we are immune to the feeling of pain. We felt pain as keenly as any human. If not more. “You are worthless, slave.” she spat. “Weak, being bait fits you so well. I can think of nothing better to show you just how insignificant and expendable you are.”

I had to keep reminding myself: not here; I couldn’t throw up here. Once we got back to the shack, I went towards my assigned area. Kamala and I were placed towards the corner. We slept on piles of straw and remained in our chains. They were afraid of what we’d do if they took away the chains. These chains were the only things keeping us from transferring into our wolf forms. They kept us weak. As stated, on the wooden walls of the shack, there was a long piece of paper with the names of the noble families. After what felt like a lifetime of silence, one of the slaves, Stasha, stood and made her way toward the paper.

I said, while every step felt like standing in a fire someone had forgotten to put out. "Alright." He didn't push. "I'm Reid." He held a hand out for a shake, easy, casual, like this was a normal thing to offer someone like me. I bowed my head instead. I don't shake hands with wolves. I made to leave. "What's your name," he asked, before I got a single step in. My name. Second person now who'd bothered to ask. "I'm a slave," I said, in case that wasn't already obvious from every other thing about me the bare feet, the servant's dress, the way I still hadn't looked him fully in the face.

The boy was sold within minutes for thirty-five gold to a merchant in purple silk who looked at his purchase the way a man might look at a piece of furniture. Kael forced himself to watch. Forced himself to memorize faces, details, anything that might be useful later. Because there *would* be a later. This place would burn, these men would answer for their crimes, but first— *First, we find her.* Two more slaves were brought out and sold. A woman with shifter blood who'd been suppressed with silver for so long she could barely stand. A man whose tongue had been cut out to ensure his silence. The parade of horrors continued while the buyers sipped their wine and discussed quality like they we

, she asks feigning hurt. I take the plate, my fingers shaking. "Thank you," I whisper. As I sleep that night, I sleep peacefully happy that for the first time, someone in this gods-forsaken place shows me kindness The next day, the sun hangs high, casting a harsh glow over the courtyard as I scrub the bloodstains from the training grounds. My back aches, my hands are raw, and hunger gnaws at my insides. I am invisible here. Just another slave, another forgotten figure.

He looked at Yenn and faked his wondering act and just casually sighed. “I don’t know what that part is, but maybe the other one?” Yenn just nodded and flipped over the pages and stopped at the word that were encircled 'Slave'. Now that made him lose his will even more. Yenn eyed him up and saw his uncomfortableness. He then flipped out another page and just looked at Jiwoon nonchalantly. “This are something about me, right?” He asked in a serious and Jiwoon just look at him silently as if telling him yes in his eyes. He let out an O sound and casually flipped on the pages then one sentence caught his eye.

Knelt in front of him and extended a hand towards the young man. "Let me help you," Morrigan said, lending her hand to the young slave but even before Morrigan could aide the slave to get up he immediately hissed and pounced on top of her like a rabid wild animal, strangling her with his strong hands. The slaves calloused and filthy hand enclosed on the delicate neck of the princess that in one strong flick of his hands he could even break Morrigan's neck in an instance. But this slave noticed something wrong in Morrigan's eyes, instead of seeing fear in her eyes he could see satisfaction and thankfulness as if silently pleading him to end her miserable life with his own hands. That behind t